


silver sounds

by thisisgermy



Category: Lethal League (Video Game), Lethal League Blaze (Video Game)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Gen, Heavy Themes, Maybe OOC, Memories, Memory Loss, Spoilers, i updated the chapter orders because fuck, its more likely than you think, made up backstory for dice and candyman, me? making a game about playing ball heavier than its supposed to be?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 20:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17311475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisgermy/pseuds/thisisgermy
Summary: remembering can be as easy as forgetting.





	1. lost to the void, all sense of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started: 7/1/2019  
> *edit 7/2/2019* this was the second chapter, but has since been moved to first for no reason other than i like this better!  
> -  
> *this happens after system territory/meeting of styles!*  
> pretty late merry christmas and a happy new year huh  
> this is the first proper thing ive done in months. ive put too much time into this for it to be tagged as 'lazy story' psdfghdfs  
> also name change - from porky to germy! finally a username that properly represents me

'may i share something with you?' the question alone was enough to slam a heavy weight onto dice' shoulders that made him mentally sag. regardless, he turned and gave candyman his full attention, only to see candyman doing the same. even in the short time he'd known _this_ side of candyman, it wasn't a mirror he'd ever expect to witness.

 

'sure.'

 

'well, it's the strangest thing.' candyman tilted his head, pupils bobbing about with the motion. it hadn't even been 30 seconds, yet dice was already exhausted with the conversation. 'i remember you saying that you knew me from long ago, yet i can't seem to place you anywhere. and my memory is usually very good!' 

 

the comment hit dice like a tidal wave. he thought he'd be ready for the talk - he knew candyman would inquire about their relationship at some point. he just didn't think he'd want to talk about it so soon after his escape. it took hours of internal planning for dice to think he was prepared for candyman's questions, yet it only took five seconds to realise he really wasn't ready for the confrontation.

 

'oh.' dice responds with, because he's clueless on what else to say.

 

'and, when i _really_ think about it, my life hasn't been all that long either!' he laughs, like it's the funniest thing he's ever said. 'i mean, i've been alive for four years! isn't that odd? was i even born? i find that funny! yet i can't seem to remember you at all in those four years! my, i can't even place your voice anywhere, and i remember all my old friends voices!'

 

they'd erased his life. 24 years. gone. washed down the drain to be replaced for Candyman. it sounds a difficult thing to do, to just, rub away someone's entire existence and replace it for a new personality - to drown someone's memories and experiences and thoughts and feelings for an _entirely new personality_ \- yet candyman was living proof on how easy it could be done. with a few isolated years and a lot of wobbly music, it could be done. and dice hadn't really thought about that aspect; about the fact that the only thing candyman knew about life was Them and the Room and nothing else prior to then.

 

all to prove a point.

 

all over a  _ball game_. 

 

it made dice **_seethe_**.

 

'but ...' there's a pause in candyman's voice that snaps dice away from the red seeping into his view. 'when i look at you, really look at you, i get a real bad headache. a headache so bad that i have to stop looking at you to make it go away. and sometimes, when it's _really_ **_really_ **bad, i see pictures of us where we look far younger, in a different place all together! you didn't have your hat back then, at least i don't think you did, and me, i'm wearing blue! _and_ i'm using a paddle! me, a ping pong bat instead of a cane! i just can't imagine it! haha! ... i find it funny how i can see your face, but i can't seem to ever see mine. i _know_ it's me, because of a feeling, you know? but all i see is a fire of black flames where a face should be! i must have been too ugly to show myself ... well, myself! haha, what a funny sentence!'

 

he softly giggles, glancing down at the cane he's tapping, not seeming to take notice of dice' growing hysteria. the edges of dice' vision are blurry and muffled, a concoction of emotions he can't describe swirling around in his chest that only gets bigger the more candyman talks. he isn't sure if it's delight or rage; perhaps both, perhaps something else entirely. he can't seem to breathe, the space they're in suddenly too stuffy and deprived of air. it's too fast too quick to take in and he can't keep up with candyman's excited stream, and he's so _angry_ with everything, with what the tri government have done, how long they'd been allowed to get away with it, how no one had intervened or tried to save him except for dice. powerless, useless, pathetic-

 

'i also keep hearing the name "hans" be said sometimes, but my name is "candyman", and your name is "dice", so i don't know why i keep hearing it! the mind sure can be a strange thing. ... my, you look ill! are you alright? should i stop the train for you? goodness, you're not going to throw up are you? that would be a terrible mess to clean up!'

 

dice waves a hand, not trusting himself to speak, throat clogged full of emotions and jumbled words. he can feel tears burn in his eyes, ready to burst their banks. of all the things he was expecting candyman to say, it wasn't that off load of information. he feels a hand land on his shoulder, hears candyman sputter something else, but all he hears is white noise, and all he can see is the past of a man without the yellow head and lifeless eyes.

 

he thought that side of candy had been lost, dusted away from time by room 21 with no hope of ever being recovered. and even if he didn't out right _know_ him, he still had access to those memories. maybe he could be ... saved? helped? restored? he wasn't sure what to do with the information, but regardless, it was a new found hope, however faint and distant and useless it presented itself to be.

 

it took awhile for him to come back to the present with everything under control, candyman sounding cheery and concerned all in the same breath, chattering up a storm about nothing. he asked him why he was crying and shaking so bad when dice turned his head to him, and dice finally found his voice, telling him not to worry about it. time seemed to have sped up in his break down, because the ding for their arrival at paradise field sounded, and the train was slowing to a halt. candyman took notice of their stop, his worry over dice gone.

 

'wowie, look at that crowd!!! i see now why you were crying - was that joy, friend? excitement? why, i feel like crying too, with a sight such as this! oh, we're going to have so much fun here, i can feel it!' candyman was out of his seat in an instant, already standing outside the trains door, his legs a blur of movement. dice was glad candyman hadn't put two and two together, too caught up in the moment to truly pay attention to things. he was nowhere near ready to walk that particular road again, with the wounds so fresh and open. he wiped at his face, sucking in a breath, before he joined candyman's side. candyman beamed at him with an eerie smile he couldn't properly wipe away, and it hurt.

 

'let's show them what we're made of and knock 'em dead!'

 

the comment didn't make dice feel any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the game doesnt really touch on the backstory of dice/candy apart from the odd scraps. they dont mention how/when they met, or how long theyve known each other, or how long candys been in room 21.  
> we dont know if candy found dice when he was a baby and looked after him until he was taken, or that maybe candy helped dice out of a tough situation when he was nine and decided to stick around and help the kid out like an annoying older brother or something.  
> we dont know if candyman's been in room 21 for weeks, months, or years, nor do we know /when/ he was taken, or if he was taken at all. he could have willingly gone with the suits  
> maybe they do mention this stuff somewhere else in the game, in which case, im dumb and unobservant, but in any case, it's all speculation my dudes and im just here to have fun and make things sad


	2. was there no meaning to my life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started: 5/2/2019  
> shjbddsjhb i wrote this because if one day someone releases a dice model for sfm you bet your arse im gonna make something like this and because my memories terrible i jotted it down so uuuuuh Fuck  
> *edit 7/2/2019* this was the third chapter, but has been moved to the second one!

candyman's mouth snaps shut, eyes suddenly facing the right way, staring dead at him. he stumbles forward, dropping his cane as both hands land on dice's shoulders for support, and he's unnerved by how intensely candyman is looking at him, actually seeing him.

  
'hans,' it's a desperate croak, far from his usual wackiness, and dice feels like he's dreaming. 'hans? where did they hide my body, hans? what did they do to my head?' his mouth stays glued shut, eyes too normal for such a comical head. dice has no answers, only sinking further into his depression as candyman begins to shiver and babble.

 

'where were you?' he sounds like he wants to cry. dice wouldn't be surprised if the mutation had taken that away from him, too. 'where were you for all those years, hans? my head hurts. i want to go home. do i still have my old home? i was there for years. hans. hans. they put me in strait jackets and blasted music if i didn't do their tests. they said that killing people was for the greater good. where did i go? is that really you, hans? my head is killing me. no one came for years. hans, hans, hans,'

 

all candyman could do was mutter dice's name, and dice didn't know what to do anymore.


	3. lost to the void, all sense of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started: 5/1/2019  
> *edit 7/2/2019* this was the first chapter, but has since been moved to the third!

it didn't take dice long to track candyman down; he found him leaning a little too far over the edge of the skyscraper, giggling up a storm about how high up he was and how tiny the street appeared. dice felt his ghost leave his body, and he raced over to candyman before he got any other ideas, dragging him away nonchalantly. 

 

the trip back to rise's station was uneventful, and dice thanked the heavens twice over that they hadn't missed the train back to the main subway. candyman rambled about how much fun he'd had, and how he really liked the area and its scenery, which was enough distraction to steer him onto the right train. even when dice disappeared from his side, candyman kept going on and on as if he still had an audience.

 

inside was almost empty of the usual pedestrians, and it didn't take long for their ride to set off. yet more small blessings to happen within a small timespan. 

 

'oh! more fun adventures!' candyman cheered, quickly joining dice on their chosen seats. he had the decency to place his cane on his lap as they rode. dice regarded him in his side eye, though candyman's face was on the window. 'where are we headed now?'

 

'paradise field.' dice figured it a waste of time to try and explain the tri government's evil doings and the whole mess with doombox over again. 'there's a tournament happening there. thought it'd be fun for us to enter and try it out.' that made candyman explode into excited laughter, hopping on his seat like a nine year old, head still turned to the window.

 

'wow!!! that does sound like a lot of fun!!! i can't wait!!!'

 

no more words were said after that, the sounds of the train rattling along the tracks being their only atmosphere. they fell in and out of darkness as they zipped through tunnels, only stopping at empty stations to let the odd person on and off. candyman watched the views blur along, emitting a small snigger whenever he spotted something amusing that dice paid no attention to.

 

not long after, dice felt candyman staring at him. and it was odd, to turn and see candyman actually _looking_ at him, with his mouth closed, eyes even blanker than usual, without so much as a jitter in his limbs or a giggle in his throat.

 

'... i know you.' it was a voice he hadn't heard in years, yet one he instantly recognised, enough to make his body turn stiff and his blood run cold. candyman's mouth never moved, both pupils trained on him. dice did nothing, said nothing; he could only watch, cool and collected. 'we won a tournament together. you were. ... you were 15.' his voice strained, devoid of its unnatural wackiness, replaced for the man before the mutation.

 

'yeah.' dice said, with sweat on the back of his neck. he didn't allow himself to smile.

 

'you were a l'il punk back then.' candyman tilted his head, pupils bobbing comically with the motion but remaining locked on dice. dice felt himself grow colder.

 

'we ah, won 'em. four to three. you let me keep the trophy, since it was my first time winning anything.' candyman kept staring, _seeing_ dice, and dice froze. he hesitated, unsure if he should keep explaining, then swallowed past the lump in his throat. '... it was a silver ping pong ball. my-my paddle snapped half way through, so you uh, you gave me yours, and you used a cane you found for the rest of the match. ... you laughed real hard when it happe-'

 

'they took me.' candyman's shoulders shook, head slumped, his mouth a thin line of stress. 'the suits. they took me to that place, to that  _room_.' and how long ago that had happened, dice suddenly realises. how long candyman had been trapped in room 21, slowly mutating, slowly changing, slowly forgetting who he was. slowly being brainwashed by the government that watched over them, that had supposedly promised to keep them safe. it was a bad sign he hadn't wanted to leave in the first place, when he easily could have walked out the door.

 

how many times had they forced him into a strait jacket to keep him from lashing out? how many tests had they forced him to do before he felt compelled to stay? how many tracks of music had they blasted before he began to change? how much longer would it have taken to get him into the perfect murderer, all done out of spite for a ball game? months? weeks? he could have turned tomorrow. dice could have been too late. dice could have been attacked, been hurt,  _killed_ by candyman when he'd entered that room. it made him sick to think about.

 

and it's heartbreaking, really, when dice remembers the man he used to be before the big yellow head. how he always had tips and tricks and advice on how to advance his play style; how to better improve his swing, and how to really make the ball roll in his favour. how he'd always listen to dice vent about this and that. how he'd always support dice' ideas, and tell dice when he was playing dumb, when he wanted to help in a situation he'd gain no control over. how much of a rock candyman had been in his life when he'd had no one else to turn to.

 

how lonely he'd become when candyman had been taken. how powerless he'd felt after four continuous years of failed rescue attempts. how it took the change of one soul to finally, _finally_ rescue another. shame and guilt and frustration and wretchedness flooded to his gut, heavy and _there_.

 

'i'm sorry.' dice says, leaned forward, mirroring candyman's turned sorrow. 'i'm sorry i couldn't come sooner. i'm so sorry.' candyman makes a sound that almost sounds like a sob, a hand wiping at tears that can't come, his body a quake of emotions he probably hasn't truly felt since the incident, and it all _hurt_.

 

'you're. ... you're hans, aren't you,' and candyman sounds as heart broken as dice suddenly feels, because he _knows_. he truly, honestly remembers their past, he remembers his _name_ , and that gives dice a sliver of hope. he hasn't completely lost it; some of him, the _real_ him, is still in there, smothered underneath his forced replacement, and dice is so happy with the knowledge that he almost breaks down into tears. he could help him. with time, perhaps he could bring the real him back, and squash the candyman persona down instead of _him_.

 

he can't find the words to reply, too stuck in his shock and relief, everything happening too fast and all of it being too much to handle. all he can manage is a deep breath and a frantic nod that makes candyman's breath hitch.

 

candyman goes to say something else before a jingle, the first jingle of the entire trip, sounds over the tinny speakers of the train, a voice announcing that they've reached paradise field. in an instant, candyman's mouth opens, his body springing upright like an uncoiled spring, eyes going all weird, his sadness replaced for happiness, words and memories forgotten. he looks through dice with a plastered on grin, enthusiastically reaching for his cane, and in that moment, dice knows he's lost his old friend for a second time.

 

'oh!!! we're here!! wowie, take a look at that crowd!!! this really _is_ a tournament!!! oh, i simply can't wait!!!' it takes only a second for dice to compose himself with forced professionalism, pushing himself to his feet. the world is foggy before him, cotton in his ears and a weight latched onto his heart that can't be shaken off.

 

'we'll be on the same team, so we'll need matching clothes.'

 

'oooooo, matching clothes!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

 

they leave the train to hear the faint whoops and cheers of the crowd in the distance, and dice finds that walking forwards is a lot harder. so badly does he want to say something; to talk about how they met, about all the matches and tournaments they've had together, to see if candyman can break his glued on character again, to see if he can even _remember_  those other things, but he shakes his head.  _later_ , he thinks with strong determination. _after the tournament, after we get answers, i'll help him_. _i won't leave him this time. i'll help him remember, even if it kills me._

 

_it's the least i can do._


End file.
